


Become Someone New (To Him; To You)

by MorganEAshton



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Explicit rating for Gavin's dirty mind, M/M, Not Romance, POV Third Person Limited, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25768864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganEAshton/pseuds/MorganEAshton
Summary: Gavin Reed has been working with Hank Anderson since he started at the DPD's Central Precinct at age 21.  Hank has always been ahead of him, more successful, more popular.  Even at his worst, he had everything Gavin wanted and more.It didn't take long before hebecamewhat Gavin wanted, too.When Hank figures it out, over fifteen years after they first met, Gavin isn't surprised that he isn't interested.  He is, however, surprised that Hank's not completely disgusted, either.  Gavin has free rein to fantasize, so long as it doesn't interfere with work or violate the boundaries Hank's put in place.  Moreover, Hank offers a deal:  If Gavin can learn how to relate to others in a healthy way, he'll have a second chance to get in Hank's good graces.It's not a guarantee of anything.  Is it enough of an incentive to change?
Relationships: Background Hank Anderson/Connor, Hank Anderson & Gavin Reed, One-sided Hank Anderson/Gavin Reed
Comments: 13
Kudos: 37





	1. Opportunity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Molias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molias/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Stay With Me, Go Places](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22534246) by [Molias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molias/pseuds/Molias). 



> This fic is a big departure for me. I actually never cared much about Gavin (didn't hate him or anything, just didn't really think much of him at all), but when I read [Molias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molias/pseuds/Molias)' [Stay With Me, Go Places](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22534246) (specifically Chapter 6), this idea popped into my head and wouldn't leave me be. I ended up writing out [this thread](https://twitter.com/MorganEAshton/status/1291189829666066434?s=20) on Twitter, which then grew into this fic. _Stay With Me, Go Places_ isn't required reading to understand this story, though I highly recommend it if you like great Hankcon. This is a standalone fic, and only loosely inspired by the other. I've by no means hidden which aspects I borrowed, but I've kept them intentionally vague so this exists in a sort of parallel universe, rather than the same one. It's not intended to be a sequel. My views are my own and do not necessarily correspond with Mo's.
> 
> Please note that I do not sugarcoat Gavin to make him more sympathetic. I don't write him as an unrepentant monster, but the boy's got some Issues. Some of his thoughts, particularly at the beginning, might be disturbing to some readers. He also quite explicitly thinks of Hank in terms of a daddy kink.
> 
> This isn't a romance story. There are a lot of things Gavin wants that he's not going to get. It's a story about what can happen when someone is accepted despite their flaws, without condoning their toxic behavior. It's about boundaries, and moving from maladaptive to adaptive coping methods. It's about the power of having an open-minded mentor figure who's willing to work with where a person's at rather than trying to change them. It's, quite honestly, more representative of why I'm a relationship anarchist than any of my romance stories.
> 
> Also, writing about fictional cops doesn't mean I support real ones. Even DBH canon shows how toxic our current justice system is, and the law enforcement in the game (yes, including Hank and Connor) actively cause most of the problems. Together, we can abolish the entire [Prison Industrial Complex](http://criticalresistance.org/about/not-so-common-language/), and keep our world from becoming [more of] a dystopia where cops still exist in 2038.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the story! ♥

Gavin Reed, contrary to what some assholes seem to think of him, is a skilled detective, and one who takes pride in his work. It's rare for him to be wrong about things. Usually, Gavin likes being right (Who doesn't?) but there's the rare occasion where he wishes he wasn't.

Fuck, does he wish he'd been wrong about Hank and fucking _Connor_.

There's one upside to the situation, which is that the plastic prick is working somewhere else now. It's a craft store or some prissy shit like that. Good riddance. He should have gone a long time ago, kept in his lane doing crappy customer service work and left the real jobs to the real boys. Most of the other androids have left, too, so things are finally getting back to the way they're supposed to be.

Or they would be, if Connor didn't still keep showing up to visit his "partner".

Lieutenant Hank Anderson has been a thorn in Gavin's side since day one, over fifteen years ago. He was the prodigy, the perfect rising star. The handsome, charming golden boy with the spotless record. Hank was the man who had it all: The prestige, the admiration, nearly unlimited career prospects. He even married a gorgeous woman and had a beautiful, bouncing baby boy.

And then it all came crumbling down. The kid died, the wife left, and the rising star fell.

Gavin should have been relieved. After all, Hank rendered him invisible. Every milestone Gavin reached, Hank was already further along. Every case Gavin cracked, Hank cracked two. Every big break Gavin made, Hank's was bigger. Anywhere else, Gavin would have been exceptional, but next to Hank he only ever looked painfully average. Hank's crisis should have been Gavin's chance to finally get ahead and get the recognition he deserved.

God, he wishes things were that simple.

It started as a dream, a haze of hot flesh and harsh words that left Gavin panting, tangled in his soaked sheets. It could have--should have--gone the way of every other wet dream, washed down the drain with his morning shower. It didn't. It dug its claws into him and wouldn't let go, until the day Gavin realized with horror that his priorities had shifted. At some point since he'd joined the DPD the job had stopped mattering as much as--

He wanted--

He _needed_ \--

Before the accident, Hank had simply blown him off. He was the consummate professional. Where others rose to meet Gavin's provocations Hank had always kept his cool. Gavin fantasized often of the moment Hank would finally snap, yell, shove Gavin against the wall right there in the precinct and have his way wi--

Gavin knows it's fucked up. He knows it's twisted how the desire only got stronger when Hank got married, that he shouldn't have been turned on by fantasies about causing a scandal that would ruin Hank's perfect life. He knows it's wrong for him to have been excited at first about the way grief broke Hank's careful composure and shortened his fuse. He knows, okay?

He knows.

Knowing doesn't stop it.

Knowing didn't stop the way he hated seeing Hank fall, not because Hank was hurting but because the pain wasn't Gavin's to possess. Knowing doesn't change the fact that the easier it became to get a rise out of Hank, the less attracted Gavin felt. Knowing doesn't change the fact that after only a day it was Connor who Hank shoved against the partition, that after less than a week Hank was willing to throw away everything to help a fucking android. That Gavin saw the way they looked at each other and knew, and he _wanted_ more than ever.

That Hank fell in love with Connor, not...

Gavin hates it. He hates, most of all, that he tried and tried and tried again to snap Hank out of his funk, but it was Connor who finally succeeded.

And Connor, with his stupid pretty face, with all the skills and charms he was built with instead of having to earn, had seen right through Gavin's anger, right to the shitty fucking crush at the heart of it all. Connor had seen it, when Hank had spent fifteen years not seeing him at all.

Connor doesn't even work at the precinct anymore, but every time he shows up Hank only has eyes for him. Now that they don't have to hide their relationship anymore, they don't even try. Hank is crazy about his sentient sex doll, and he's rebuilding his reputation, and he has the gall to be happy when Gavin is just as miserable as he's always been.

It isn't fair. There isn't even anything left to stop Connor from spreading Gavin's horrible secret.

"Hey," Hank says one day on their lunch break, with no preamble. "Can we talk?" Hank sought him out. Hank almost never comes to him first.

Gavin feels only dread. He could say no. He could tell Hank to fuck off. "About what?" he snaps instead.

"Something I shouldn't say here."

Gavin's pulse spikes. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but god help him, if Connor tattled Gavin is going to fucking turn him into scrap. He scoffs. "I need a smoke break. Your choice whether to follow." He storms off, before he can show his hand.

Hank follows.

Damnit, it shouldn't feel so good to know he's following.

The ordinances make it so the smoking area is isolated. It's hidden in the back of the building, far away from any doors or windows, or cameras. Nobody else comes out here. Smoking went out of vogue years ago. Vaping went quicker. Gavin doesn't care. He refills and takes a puff off his ancient e-cig. The smell of artificial chocolate curls into his sinuses, hooks into his brain, and drags out the old, familiar rage. He needs to be angry. Angry is so much better than afraid.

"Look, uh," Hank leans against the wall next to him and runs a hand through his hair. He's clearly uncomfortable. Good. "So, I, uh. I've noticed something lately."

"Noticed?" He chuckles, bitter, and takes a deep inhale. "Is that a fancy way of saying, 'my roboyfriend told me'?"

"Connor's got nothing to do with this. Keep him out of it." He lets his head thunk back. "Actually, no. He's got everything to do with it. You've been shittier to him than usual lately. It needs to fucking stop."

He chances a more direct look at Hank's face, instead of watching him out the corner of his eye. "What're you gonna do about it, old man?"

"I was kinda hoping you'd finally show a shred of basic fucking decency, and I wouldn't have to."

"I'll treat Build-a-Boy Workshop how I think he deserves to be treated. You don't like it, you can try and sic Fowler on me. Good fucking luck with that, though."

"Calm your tits. I'm not here to threaten you, Reed. Not everyone works the way you do."

"So what? What's my incentive, Hank? What do I get outta playing nice with some literal boy-toy?" A thrill of excitement lances through him. Connor is a weakness, a sore spot Gavin can poke until maybe, just maybe Hank will finally crack and either give Gavin what he wants or put him out of his goddamn misery. And oh, it would be so satisfying to get it now. It would feel so good to tear Connor's mechanical heart out, straight through Hank's dick.

Hank waves away a puff of vapor and scrubs a hand over his face. "Fuck, I hope I'm right about this," he grumbles under his breath. "Look," he says to Gavin, "I think I know why you hate Connor so much."

The clench of his gut is equal parts anxiety and desperation, a _yes_ as much as it is a no, no, no. "That doesn't take a genius, dipshit. You're the one who used to have the anti-android stuff all over your desk."

"You never treated the other androids the way you treat Connor."

"None of them were as annoying as he is." Part of him wants to head Hank off. The bigger part is screaming, _See through it. See me._

Hank stands to his full, impressive height. "No more games. I want you to be honest with me for once in your life." He blocks Gavin in and looks directly into his eyes. "How long, Gavin?"

The words, the stare rips through him like a seismic shift. He forgets, sometimes, how intimidating Hank can be, how huge he is when he isn't slouching into himself. He's never had so much of Hank focused so fully onto him. He swallows. He still wants to lie. He knows he can't. He feels his body betraying him, knows that if Hank looked down, he would know too much. It might already be too late. Gavin's face is burning. His voice comes out thick like he's been exerting himself, like they've been-- "Years."

Hank shuts his eyes. "How many?"

"Since before the task force." He clenches his teeth.

"Shit." Hank sounds winded, too. It's one of the hottest things Gavin's ever heard.

"How?" Gavin demands. "If he didn't tell you, what tipped you off? Why now? For Detroit's finest, you've been fucking dense, Lieutenant Anderson," he leans forward so he's close enough to spit the title into Hank's mouth, chemical-sweet.

Hank takes a step back, but keeps his eyes locked with Gavin's. "Can't see what you're not ready to believe."

"Great, so what? Hated me so fucking much you couldn't handle the thought of it?" He steps forward, right back into Hank's personal bubble.

"Oh, you're one to talk, the way you acted so disgusted that anyone could ever wanna be with me. First with Natalie, and now Connor. Can't believe it took me this long to realize you were jealous, but I guess I thought you had a point." He grabs Gavin's shoulders and moves him backwards. "Could you chill it with the dick measuring contest and back off?"

"You. Started. It." He shoves with each word.

"Jesus, okay." He turns away, hands in the air in surrender, and paces. "Look, Reed. I never wanted to be your enemy. As far as I'm concerned, that was all you, buddy. I don't know what the hell's going on with you that you think you've gotta antagonize literally every goddamn person you interact with, but honestly? I'm relieved to know you've got other feelings besides raging douchebag."

He puts his vape away and checks his phone. "Break's almost over. What's the point of this, Hank? Come to lord it over me that you finally have it all figured out?"

He sighs and shakes his head. "I've had crushes too, you know. Never pulled the tsundere bullshit, but you know. I came to, I dunno, check on you, I guess."

"Check on me." Gavin gives him the most skeptical look he can manage.

"Yeah. Is this, uh. A feelings thing, or just a sex thing?"

"You're kidding me."

Hank groans. "No, I'm not. Does everything with you have to be like pulling my fucking teeth out? I'm asking because if you have any semblance of positive feelings towards me, I was hoping maybe we could salvage this dumpster fire. Form a truce. Get a fresh start."

He wishes he hadn't put the vape away. It would be embarassing to pull it back out now. "Why? What's in it for you?"

"Here's the deal: I'm not interested in reciprocating whatever it is you want from me. You've never been anything but a pain in my ass. I'm happy with Connor, and I'm your superior. It's not gonna happen."

"How's that supposed to convince me?"

"I'm getting there, sheesh." He shakes his head. "I wanted to get that out of the way so you can keep your expectations in check. Look, what you think or do or fantasize about or whatever on your free time's none of my business. If you get your rocks off thinking about me, good for you. I'm not here to tell you to stop feeling whatever way it is you feel. Just keep it out of the workplace, and don't expect me to wanna hear about it." He shrugs, with a smirk. "That doesn't mean it's gotta be all or nothing, though. If you want to get to know the real me, not just whatever twisted idea of me you've got rolling around in that head of yours, grow the fuck up. This whole attention-seeking thing you're doing has to stop. I won't tolerate toxic behavior. But if you find some better coping mechanisms and make an effort to behave, I'll give you another chance. We can start with a better working relationship, and go from there."

Gavin is quaking. "What fucking right do you have to tell me what to do, after the way you've acted the past four years?"

Hank is completely unfazed, just the way he used to be. "Oh, I know I was shitty. I'm not saying I'm off the hook. I'm in therapy for a reason." His deep, gravely voice hardens into something strict and no-nonsense. "What I am saying is that I won't let you use my problems as your excuse not to do better. The way you've been acting is disruptive to me, my partner, and the people of this precinct. Find a better solution. If you want me in your life as more than just a wet dream, those are my conditions. You understand?"

He's still shaking. It's not anger anymore.

"Gavin," he barks. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Daddy." He snaps his mouth shut, but his eyes are wide. _Shit_.

Hank coughs, composure broken. "Well, that was uncomfortable for everyone. But it's my job to keep this precinct in order, and if thinking of me as your daddy is better motivation for you to shape up than my authority as your commanding officer, go right ahead. Just...don't actually call me that again. I'll keep your secret, if you keep it in your pants."

He nods, mortified.

"I'm not gonna help you," Hank continues. "You're an adult, your shit is your responsibility, and I expect you to figure it out. You're actually a decent detective, or you wouldn't have lasted this long with your attitude. I trust that you can do it. And if you do," he saunters forward, "maybe I'll even tell you you're a good boy. That incentive enough, Gavin?"

"Oh, fuck," he breathes.

"Think about it. I'll, uh, cover for you, if you need some time to...do whatever you've gotta do." Hank waves his hand in Gavin's general direction, and then turns stiffly and goes back inside.

Gavin slumps against the wall. "What the fuck just happened?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hank [Hostile] → Hank ^ [Tense]
> 
> Path Unlocked!


	2. Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin and Hank have lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I am having so much more fun writing this than I ever would have anticipated. I'm especially enjoying the banter. It's very cathartic. For a story that was originally supposed to be a one-shot, I'm sure letting it meander along at its own pace. Oh well. 😂
> 
> If "Fear and Loathing" by MARINA isn't the theme song of this story, I don't know what is. Give it a listen if you want an idea of where Gavin's headed. [[Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qm5pdRsPRDc) | [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/track/4PYuPoNfBHN0I8LMKN7Ued?si=RxZAmtUDS0ql7G55pZq69w)]

Gavin knows he's wrecked. His eyes are wild when he checks them with his phone, and neither his flush nor his erection seem to want to settle down. He can't walk in so soon after Hank. Not like this. That's why he caves to desire, and ends up furiously jacking it behind the dumpster.

What the fuck? What the everloving fuck?

He doesn't have the time to daydream, but he knows this is different. His brain keeps catching on the way Hank rumbled "good boy", even if it was only a teaser for the real thing.

Hank's never called him good in his fantasies before. Not once.

He bites his knuckle to muffle himself when his cum splatters across the pavement. The sound still slips past, a pathetic whimper that makes him flood with shame. The shame remains long after the physical signs have passed, after he's collected himself and stopped by the bathroom to wash his hands and splash his face. As promised, nobody bothers him when he gets back to his desk nearly half an hour late.

He doesn't know what Hank told them. He doesn't want to know.

It's a slow day. It's torture, to have so little to do when he has so much to think about. An hour before his shift ends, it gets worse. He heads back from the breakroom with his coffee, only to find Connor on his way to Hank's desk.

"Hello, Detective Reed," Connor says in that faux-cordial way of his.

Gavin looks at Hank.

Hank raises his brows.

"Hey," Gavin says, and keeps walking past. He catches the curious tilt of Connor's head in his periphery.

 _It's gonna be a long hour_ , he thinks.

He's right. Despite the fact that Hank knows how Gavin feels, he's no less schmoopy towards Connor. Connor is as obnoxiously chipper as ever. He's also wearing a brightly-patterned eyesore of a sweater even though the weather's only just starting to cool. Fucking android. Couldn't he at least pretend to be a normal person? Gavin tries to ignore them, and only partially succeeds. He can't get out the door fast enough.

It's a restless night.

He's the one who approaches Hank the next day. It probably looks weird for them to leave together two days in a row. He doesn't really care.

Hank agrees to another talk, but asks if Gavin would like to hit up the little bistro down the street. "Need to actually eat this time."

Gavin agrees, and tries not to think too hard about it. He asks his question only after they've settled down in a corner table with their sandwiches. "How much does he know?"

"Connor? He figured out you had feelings for me on his own, but you already knew that, didn't you?"

"Yeah." The admission tastes sour. "How'd the subject come up?"

"He asked me why you seemed preoccupied. I said we talked. He put two and two together." Hank slouches back in the chair, too casual. He either doesn't realize or doesn't care that the position puts him on display.

Gavin tries to stare a hole into his reuben. "Does he know about your little deal?"

"I told him when we got home. That a problem?"

"Is he jealous?" Gavin forces himself to eat, and not to hope.

"Nah."

"He should be. His _partner_ just agreed to star in another man's fantasies."

Hank takes a bite of his food, washes it down with his drink. He's still so nonchalant about it. It's infuriating. "Connor trusts me not to cross any lines, just like I'm choosing to try trusting you. I already told you I'm not gonna reciprocate. Your thoughts about me don't mean I'm cheating."

"What about the tease?"

"The 'good boy' thing?"

"Yeah. You're playing along. You're knowingly fueling the fire. That makes you an active participant. What?" He leans over the table and lowers his voice. "Next, are you gonna jack me off and say it's not cheating because you're not the one getting off on it?"

He snorts. "Bit of a jump, there, Reed. Sorry, but I'm not gonna touch your dick, no matter how much you're gagging for it. Here's the deal: You called me 'daddy' on our work break, just because I got a little stern with you. I coulda freaked out about that. I coulda been grossed out by this whole thing. Hell, I coulda reported it, if I wanted to, which," he raises his sandwich pointedly, before Gavin can jump in, "I don't. That wasn't a threat. I'm not saying you've gotta go along with what I want or I'm gonna tell on you. So long as you don't try and take it further than I'm comfortable with, we're cool. Connor doesn't think I took it too far yesterday. Do you? You want me to take it back?"

Gavin shoves the last of his sandwich in his mouth to keep from blurting out something he'll regret, and shakes his head.

"I'm choosing to accept that you want things from me that I'm not willing to give you. I'm choosing to accept that your feelings exist instead of punishing you for them, because I know better than to think that you can make desire just go away. You're gonna think it, no matter what I do or don't do. I'd rather work with it, instead of fighting against it. Yeah, I know damn well the language I picked is a kink thing for you. But to me, 'good boy' is what I say to my dog. If you're into that, if it's a good motivation for you to make a positive change, sure, I can roll with it."

"Why the fuck should I put all this effort in, for your fucking table scraps?"

"Honestly?" He smirks. "I don't give a fuck whether you change or not. I've been working with you for more than half my career. I'm used to your shit."

He leans an elbow on the table, matching Hank's smirk with a sneer of his own. "That's not what you said yesterday. You cared a hell of a lot, when you told me to stop messing with Connor."

"Yeah, because Connor did nothing wrong. He didn't choose to be on the deviant case; CyberLife sent him here. He didn't make me have feelings for him instead of you; that was all me. I want you to leave him out of it because if you've gotta take out your issues on someone, at least have the decency to take them out on the right person. But as far as how you treat me? Do whatever the fuck you want. Here's the deal, Gavin. I'm an open-minded guy. I went from hating androids to supporting their cause in less than a week, because Connor proved to me that the ideas I had about androids were wrong. That's what I'm giving you, is a chance to prove me wrong. I'm willing to be open to seeing you as something other than just an annoying prick, if you wanna show me there's more to you than that. And if you don't, no skin off my back."

He rolls his eyes. "Gee, thanks."

"Seriously, though. I've seen some of the worst this world's got to offer. You've acted like a shithead, but you've also gotten a lot of people off the streets who are a heck of a lot worse. You've got problems, kid, and I know most people like you aren't willing to put in the work to fix them, but I don't wanna just treat you like a lost cause. Yeah, you're unpleasant to work with. Nobody in our fuckin' precinct likes you, me included, but I know damn well the one who's the worst off because of it is you, not us."

Gavin slams his drink on the table. "Are you just gonna fucking keep insulting me?"

He still doesn't flinch. "Don't feel good, does it? How's that medicine going down?"

"Tch." He pushes back and props his feet on the table, just to get some distance between himself and Hank.

The guy at the register pipes in, "Uh, hey, sir, you can't do tha--"

"Fuck off!" Gavin snaps, and flicks him off.

He shrinks into himself and goes back to working.

"See," Hank says, "this is the kinda shit that alienates you from everyone."

"I fucking know that. Y'ever considered maybe I wanna be left alone?"

"Yeah, I did. Which is why finding out you want something else from me was such a big deal."

Gavin looks away. "Why do you even care?"

"Because I'm only a part-time asshole."

A surprised laugh wrenches itself out of his throat before he can completely stop it.

Hank chuckles. "But for real, I may be a cynical old bastard, and for the most part I'm pretty done with humanity, but there are times when people surprise me. I like it when that happens. I like anything that reminds me that the way I feel about the world after I've come off a crime scene isn't the whole story. Finding out you had the hots for me? Consider me well and truly surprised. Took me a bit to decide whether I felt skeeved out or flattered, but I decided in the end that it felt a heck of a lot better to pick the latter. And hey, if nothing else, this is the most we've ever talked."

Yeah, Gavin supposes it is. "I still don't get what you think I'll be getting outta this. Changing, I mean. Why should I do all this work to _maybe_ get you to say something I wanna hear, knowing it won't mean shit even if you do?" Why does he still want it, even knowing that?

"Hey, I didn't say it wouldn't mean anything, just that it wouldn't mean what you want it to."

He swallows. "What would it mean to you?"

"That I'm proud of you, for putting in the work to make your life better. I know how hard it is, because I'm doing it now. I know how much easier it is to be angry and push everyone away when you're hurting. Keeps you from having to be vulnerable and risk even more pain."

His throat is tight. "What makes you think I'm hurting? How do you know this isn't just who I am? You think you're being so gracious, but all I'm hearing is that you won't accept me until I stop being myself."

Hank sighs, and the edge slips off his voice. "I'm not telling you to change who you are. The whole asshole thing? It's not a personality. It's just a set of behaviors that aren't serving you or anyone else. I don't think you're hurting; I know you are. Nobody wants to be alone, and the fact that your vendetta against me mutated into lust proves you're not some special exception to the rule. You seem to me like a guy who really needs someone to show a little faith in him for once. Even if I can't give you what you want, I can at least try and give you what you seem to need. I'm willing to take the hits while you work it out. I've got a thick enough skin and enough experience dealing with people that you'd have to really go overboard to hurt me. I'm open to dealing with the mess of the process, but only if you're willing to put in the effort to work with me. I can't do that part for you."

Gavin grits his teeth, and then sucks down the watered-down remnants of his soda. He gets up and throws away the cup and his sandwich wrapper, and walks out the door.

Halfway back to the precinct, Hank falls into step beside him.

Gavin's steps slow, against his will. He stops a few feet before they reach the door. There are a thousand thoughts fighting to become words. They bottleneck in his mouth, hot like bile. The one that finally pushes through is, "I want you to stop being all lovey-dovey with Connor when he comes in."

"No."

He turns on Hank. "The hell? You're allowed to make demands of me, but you won't can it with the PDA?"

"Connor and I are together. We haven't done anything inappropriate, just the occasional kiss hello or goodbye. I'm allowed to show affection for my partner. You're allowed to be jealous about it, but you aren't entitled to making me change harmless behavior that's got nothing to do with you. We're not attacking you. We're not provoking you. You're the one choosing to be threatened by it. If you wanna get to know me, my feelings for the most important person in my life are part of the deal, whether you like it or not. I'm not gonna mask that, just to make it easier for you to imagine Connor's not in the picture."

"I'm never gonna be all buddy-buddy with him."

"That's fine. I can't make you like him."

"But you think you can make me stop hating him."

"Nah. Hate him all you want. You just don't need to act on it."

Gavin gives him a searching look. 

Hank rocks on his heels, hands in his pockets. His expression is neutral, maybe leaning towards faintly amused.

"Asshole," Gavin says, and goes inside.

Fowler glances at them with cocked brows. Hank shoots him a look that Gavin can't see. The captain shrugs and goes back to whatever he was doing before they arrived.

Gavin sits at his desk, feet propped up, and checks his phone. Hank leaves him be, and goes back to work at his own station. The day moves on. Nobody asks Gavin what's up. He lets himself be mad about it. He goes to his empty apartment, and thinks about how Hank is going home to Connor. He lets himself be mad about that, too, as if he has a choice not to be.

He lies in bed and thinks about what it would be like for Hank to be there with him instead. He lets himself be something other than mad. He lets himself imagine Hank undressing him like he cares about what's underneath. His imaginary Hank kisses his neck and says he's proud, he's _so proud of you, Gavin. You're doing such a good job, my good boy._

"Oh fuck, oh fuck..." Gavin's hand is shaking when it wraps around his cock. "Hank, oh fuck, please..." He scrambles in the nightstand for the lube and the dildo he bought after spending far too much time trying to map out the prominent bulge in Hank's slacks.

He wants to fuck himself raw, pound these new feelings out of himself. Hank in this vision won't let him. He keeps it slow, fingering Gavin open until he's begging for it, before finally offering his cock like some sort of prize for being patient.

"What the fuck are you doing to me?" Gavin chokes out. There's no response, and a hole in his imagination where the answer would be if he understood. Hank isn't there. It's just Gavin, and the silicone dick in his ass.

He's gonna be sick.

"Fuck you. Fuck you, you son of a bitch." He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to fall back on the old, familiar fantasies instead. Hank's hands rough, his dick punishing, his words as biting as his teeth in Gavin's shoulder.

His orgasm is deeply unsatisfying, forced and weak. It leaves him with a sore ass, a slightly chafed dick, and a sad puddle of semen in his belly button.

Gavin showers. He throws down two beers and some leftover pizza. He tries to read over his case files. The words swim away. He streams an old crime drama, one of the shitty ones that he can yell at for being inaccurate. It's just background noise.

He's so fucking mad. He can't tell if he's mad at Hank for dangling a rotten carrot in front of his nose, or for himself for being desperate enough that he wants to chase it.

Hank's been arriving to work at a decent time lately, so Gavin doesn't even wait until lunch to confront him the next morning. "Say I bite. Say I decide to play your fucking game. What, exactly, do you expect from me?"


	3. Breaking Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank answers Gavin's question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, have another song! This one's an old one from my favorite band. Not one of their best imo (the lead singer is AMAZING, even live, and this one doesn't do him justice at all.), but damn if it doesn't fit Gavin in this story. [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9hULVO40dag) | [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/track/054SKllowwoDEwg1MxZBMm?si=0UXWGEmJTgu0NkRvfTEoiA)
> 
> This one took longer than I wanted, because of an IRL event that made me unable to concentrate enough to write. Just as a reminder, this was the last line of Chapter 2: Hank's been arriving to work at a decent time lately, so Gavin doesn't even wait until lunch to confront him the next morning. "Say I bite. Say I decide to play your fucking game. What, exactly, do you expect from me?"

Hank stares down at Gavin, coffee in hand. He yawns, brows raised. "Well, first off if we're gonna keep doing this we need to start talking somewhere other than work. And second," he kicks Gavin's leg so he spins around, "I'm gonna need you to get the fuck outta my chair."

Gavin takes his time, going just enough rotations to make Hank's eye twitch. He grins when he gets the desired result. "You saying you wanna see me outside work hours, Hank? How sweet."

He snorts, rolling his head in a way that reminds Gavin of a bull. "I told you I'm willing to help support you through a tough process. Did you really think I meant just on the clock?" He pats Gavin's shoulder as he passes him, and sits to start getting everything logged in and ready for the day.

"Uh, yeah? Won't _precious Connor_ be upset you're taking time away to spend with me?"

"I've got Connor's full support. He's glad I'm doing this."

Gavin leans against the desk, brows pinched. "Why? He want you to tame me that bad?"

"I thought I was taking the high road, ignoring you. I thought I wasn't letting you get under my skin. I was wrong. I was pissed, even if I didn't show it. I let it cloud my judgment. I used it to justify treating you as a lost cause before I ever tried to reach you. I shoulda done better. When I told Connor I felt that way, he backed me up."

Gavin was so close, all this time. It'd be so much easier to just go back to doing what he's always done. Keep pushing. Try again to force Hank across the threshold, now that he's exposed. "You gonna do better now?"

"Gonna try. Give you the benefit of the doubt. Trust that it's worth it to get to know you. The real you, not," he gestures uselessly in the air, "whatever the hell you've been pretending to be. But I need a definitive answer on whether you wanna cooperate. You're the one who's gotta take the lead on this."

 _Why?_ he wonders. Why should everything be on him? "You still haven't answered my question, about what you actually expect me to do to earn your fucking approval."

He tips his head in assent. "What do you need to know?"

"When would it be good enough to count? I'm not just gonna magically transform into your idea of a better person, just because you want me to."

"Don't expect you to. I just want you to try. Show me you're willing to take this seriously. Make an effort to understand why I want you to change in the first place, take a good hard look at yourself and understand how you're hurting yourself and everyone around you. Mostly, I want you to try and figure out why you feel like you've gotta do it all in the first place."

He scoffs. "What makes you think there's a reason?"

"There's always a reason."

He's not sure about that. Far as Gavin's concerned, some people are just shitstains. "And if I don't think I've done anything wrong?"

"Then we're in a stalemate, and I've got nothing for you. Things go back to the way they were before." He shrugs, dismissive, and turns back to his console. He takes a sip of coffee.

Gavin's stomach is doing flips. "What if you're wrong? What if everyone deserves the shit I give them?"

"You admit it's shit, then?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean other people haven't asked for it."

"Then I'm being an ass, and you're not doing yourself any favors wanting my attention." He grins, looking far too proud of himself. "Your choice. Either I'm the ass, or you are."

"Why's me being an ass make you any less of one?"

Hank chuckles. "Touché."

He sighs, and chews the inside of his cheek. He pops a squat on Hank's desk, just like a certain someone always does, and taps his thighs in agitation. "Look, I know people hate me for a reason."

Hank stops splitting his attention.

"I'm a jerk. I get it. I don't need you to tell me that."

"But?"

He takes a deep breath, and releases it. "What you're saying implies I can be something else. Like that'd be better somehow, even though the only reason you're fucking talking to me at all is because you think I was too hard on your plastic pet."

He shakes his head. "That's not why."

"Then why?" Gavin snaps. He sounds hysterical, even to his own ears. He knows Hank's right. They shouldn't be talking here.

"I've let this go on for fifteen years. Put my head in the sand, told myself every office's gotta have its resident bully." He tips his chair back and looks up into Gavin's face, arm slung over the headrest. "I got into police work because I loved this world but I hated how people had messed it up. I thought I could fix it, but the job has a way of just feeding the hate." He chuckles, mirthless. "Gavin, my biggest accomplishment with the DPD was the red ice busts, but the drug is bigger than ever, and my son died because the surgeon was out getting high. We're not fixing anything here. We're just fighting an endless uphill battle, and all the shit with the deviant cases made me realize that we might actually be making it worse."

He had no idea about the surgeon. There's a sick irony to it, that makes him feel a shred of something like sympathy. He shoves it aside. "The hell's that got to do with me?"

"I spent years trying to better the world, and missed what was right in front of my nose. You were here, this whole time, secretly wishing I'd notice you. I mighta spared you and everyone here years of trouble if I'd taken the time to look."

That lump in his throat is back. Something unlocks in his shoulders, like Hank's reanimated a golem that's been frozen all these years, clutching Gavin in one of its giant hands. The comparison comes to him as unexpectedly as Hank's confession. He hates it. It's too close to home. "You shoulda fuckin' started with that."

"Maybe." Hank shoots him a little half-smile.

It drives itself into the cracks in his anger like a switchblade. Why the hell does Hank have to be so damn charming?

"I'm not saying I'm totally at fault here," he backtracks. "Your behavior's inexcusable. However, I am your lieutenant. My duty, before anything else, is to take care of everyone under my command. That should have included you. I've been too blind to see that the racket you've been making was a cry for help."

He tilts his head down to hide the heat in his cheeks. "I don't need your help, or anyone else's. I'm not some charity case you can use to tick boxes off your 'good cop' card."

"That what you think this is?"

"Yeah. I do." He looks up from under his brows. "I think you see me as an opportunity. You fucked up, couldn't fix the red ice problem, lost everything that mattered to you, and you want some way to make it up to yourself. You realized, oh, here I am. Poor, poor Gavin," he whines melodramatically. "Pining over you all these years. How sad. What a perfect little pet project to restore your reputation, turn you back into the precinct hero."

Hank tenses, looking around to check if anyone's listening in. "This isn't about me."

"No, of course you don't think so. You think maybe I'm just a misunderstood, traumatized kid who you can heal with a mix of firm discipline and gentle encouragement. Maybe you think I never had a _real_ daddy. Is that it?" He leans in and hisses. "That why you went along with my kink? You lost your son, and you think maybe you can use me as a second-rate surrogate."

"You leave Cole out of this." He looks more furious than Gavin's ever seen him, as he pushes his chair back and stands.

Gavin hops down, too, grinning and feral. "Oh, this it then? This your breaking point? Gonna kick my ass, Hank? You think I want you to love me, but you're wrong. This is what I want. This is who I really am." His voice is getting louder, and he can't stop it. He doesn't want to stop it. "I wanna piss you off until you see red, until you wanna rip me limb from fucking limb because I dared to call you out for projecting your own issues onto me. I'm not a good person, Hank. It's not gonna work. I'm just a fucked-up bastard who gets off on people's rage. Especially," he steps closer, "yours."

Hank grabs him by the front of his shirt and drags him towards the interrogation rooms. "Jesus Christ, Gavin. This is why we should have waited to have this conversation somewhere else."

He locks his hands around Hank's wrists in a vice grip. Is he trying to shove him away or hold him there? "Why should I care? What do I have to lose? Been here for nearly half my fucking life, and I've never made it past detective. Besides, you said it yourself: It's pointless. This is all fucking pointless!" He leans back and full-on yells. "Hey, everyone! I want Hank Anderson to hate-f--"

Hank slams a hand against Gavin's mouth and activates the palm scanner with the other. He shoves Gavin into the room, follows, and locks the door behind them. "Sit down and shut your damn mouth."

"Make me."

He lets out an enraged growl. "Are you crazy?"

"Yeah, and maybe you shoulda picked a room with windows. People might get the wrong idea."

He throws his hands up. "I picked this room so we could fucking hash this out without an audience, but that's what I get for wanting privacy, I guess."

"What's there to hash out? You're not gonna give me what I want, and I don't wanna play your little game."

He doesn't leave. He just runs fingers through his hair, pacing. "Why the fuck did I think this was a good idea?"

"Damned if I know." Gavin folds his arms in front of him. He doesn't leave, either. "One chance. I'll give you one fucking chance."

He stops, and looks at Gavin expectantly.

"If you can prove me wrong, about what I just said, then maybe I'll reconsider." It feels good, to have the ball in his court for once.

Hank sucks on the inside of his mouth, lips pulled taut. He releases them with a pop. "You're not the first person who's thought I might be trying to replace Cole."

He sits on the table and makes a "go on" motion.

"Chris asked me once, before he knew me and Connor were together. He saw how much happier I'd gotten, and wanted to make sure it wasn't because my wires were getting crossed."

 _Of course that's the wording he'd pick_ , Gavin thinks. He doesn't want to hear about Connor, but damnit, he wants to know what Hank's trying to gain from this.

"I knew me and Connor weren't like that, but it still made me doubt. Why _was_ I so much happier, being with him? Why'd that do it, when nothing else could?"

He tries not to let it show, how much it pains him to think of that. "You find an answer?"

"It was just Connor. He didn't replace Cole. Nobody ever could. He's just a good person. Spending time with him feels better than getting drunk, or--" He shakes his head. "I know this isn't selfless. I never claimed it was. But it's not some reputation thing, and it's not about trying to fill the gap Cole left behind." He pulls over a chair and slumps into it. "When I found out you had a, I dunno, hate-boner or whatever for me, I guess I just wanted to deserve it."

"Then why the hell am I the one being treated as if I don't deserve anything unless I become someone different?"

He closes his eyes. "I think you're misunderstanding something."

"Get on with it, then."

He takes a long, steadying breath. "Everyone deserves respect, you included, but only a fucking saint would be able to deal with the shit you spew on a daily basis. I'm far from that. I can only take so much. It isn't about what you do or don't deserve; it's about what I can and can't handle. I wanna give you more than I've given you in the past, but if you keep acting like this then I've gotta step away, for my own mental health. I can't be that person for you. I'm willing to go pretty far, way further than I would if we didn't have so much history, but I'm not willing to hurt myself for your sake. I shouldn't have to. Nobody should."

He fiddles with one of the cuffs bolted to the table. They've factored into so many of his dirtiest dreams. If he's lucky, this won't ruin that for him. He doubts he can hope for much else. "Why now?"

"I told you I wasn't ready to believe you had feelings for me. I wasn't ready for a lot of things. Connor changed that. He met me at my worst, and still saw me as someone worth fighting for. I wanted to at least try to do the same for you."

He wishes Hank had seen him earlier. He would have known-- "That logic is fucked. Connor gave you that chance, but he didn't give it to me. He hates me. If he's so much better than everyone else and even he doesn't see me as worth the effort, why should you?"

The way his expression softens looks like pity. "I told you he supported this, didn't I? He doesn't hate you. He thinks you're obnoxious, but he doesn't hate you. He said if I can get through to you, he'd be happy to 'reassess his evaluation' of you, if you'd let him."

He definitely wasn't expecting that. He thinks that maybe a normal person would be comforted. Gavin feels nauseated. "Hard pass on that one. I still don't get how hooking up with him made you see I had the hots for you." 

"He saw me as attractive, when I'd never felt all that attractive before. I guess it let me see that maybe he wasn't the only one."

Gavin holds up a hand. "Now wait a minute. You were married. You obviously fucked your wife, if she had a kid." He stops, eyes widening, "No. Don't tell me--"

"Cole was my son, by blood. Don't get any crazy ideas in your head." The sound he makes is long-suffering. "I can't believe I'm about to tell you this." He leans his elbows on his knees. "Natalie and I didn't have a traditional marriage. It wasn't romantic, and it damn well wasn't for the sex."

"Huh." He leans back on his hands.

"We were best friends. We both wanted kids, and we were getting older and hadn't managed to have them with anyone else. We figured, why not? We thought we were in it for life, anyway. We loved each other, even if it wasn't that kind of love. We got married when she was 38 and I was 41. Took nearly a year to conceive. Almost thought we were too late until Cole arrived."

Gavin laughs in disbelief. "Well, I'll be damned. You weren't so perfect, after all."

He chuckles at that. "I don't think anyone's ever called me perfect. Not even Connor." He smirks. "Kind of makes you sound like you've got it bad."

That stings, after all the reminders of what he isn't to Hank. "Shut up. I already told you how I feel."

Hank leans closer, teasing. He doesn't realize how cruel he's being. "You sure you were telling the truth? You really seemed into the 'good boy' thing. I saw your breath hitch when I said I could be proud of you."

Gavin kicks him in the shoulder, hard enough that it almost sends Hank toppling backwards.

He steadies his chair and glares daggers. "Seriously, what's your deal? I can tell you want this, but you're still pushing me away. I told you why I'm doing this. Your turn, before I lose my damn patience."

"I don't have to tell you shit."

"Fine." Hank stands. "Then we're done here. Have fun cleaning up the mess you made out there."

"Wait!" he says before he can stop it. He feels his whole face burn, all the way to the tips of his ears. Fuck.

Hank stops by the door, hand hovering inches in front of the scanner to leave. "Give me one good reason why I should."

Fuck it, he hasn't had any dignity for years. What else could he possibly lose? "You're right. I want you to be proud of me. Are you happy now?"

He lowers his hand, but doesn't turn around. He just waits.

"I want to be good. I'm just not, okay? I don't know how to change. I don't even know if I can. I want--" He swallows. "I wish you'd just accept me how I am."

"You need help, Gavin." He turns his head just enough to see Gavin in his periphery. "Show me you're getting help, and then we'll set up a time and a place to talk."

He feels like he's gonna pass out. He nods.

"If Jeff doesn't call us to his office the second we leave the room, he'll do it eventually. He'll be less mad if we take the initiative."

"Okay." He sounds tiny, like a scolded child. He hates that Hank can do that to him.

"Come on, then. Let's explain what's going on." Hank opens the door and leaves, without waiting to make sure Gavin is following.

Gavin follows. Of course he does.


End file.
